i'm breaking it
down into pieces,
these strange encounters
when the clock strikes three

a wanderlust
not of the foot, but this lie-fed mind
elevating curiosity, of the safest spots
hinting the edges of the unknown

am i the biggest fool?
thinking that my dreams are too big
to fit in this bottle, eyes fixed on me
are my dreams too big for this small town?

know that you're home
but i discovered wheels
is it the call of my heart
or a shout of escape?

do i accept, and let it be:
the bar set low below my neck
or should i step inside an outside place
the city, and the lights, shrinking behind me.

“It’s nice to meet you.”
He hugged me awkwardly
and I hugged back, just the same
things were a little simpler then
or so I thought in the moment
just a couple
of friends

“Sorry I’ve disappeared,
things have been hard recently.”
I could see that he meant it
in those hopeful eyes
and sheepish smile
“It’s okay. Don’t worry.”
“Is it, though?”

“Thank you for being there for me,”
I said this time, sad and unsure
but in his arms again
and this time around
it felt like coming home
somehow

“I don’t know how I feel about this,”
we thought, “and I need some time”
in those endless summer months
spent miles apart
physically, emotionally
far from home
if home is where the heart is

“I love you,”
he said that one night
as he put the blanket around me
planting a kiss on my cheek
and an inkling of hope in my heart
making my house his home
with a sign saying: love grows here

Last night, he had no words
absentmindedly touching me
as if it was second nature
smiling when he met my eyes
looking up from his things

and for some reason
that spoke to me the most.